


Two Creatures Were Stirring

by Ray_Writes



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: The Doctor and Donna can't resist spending the night together on Christmas Eve, even at her mother's house.





	Two Creatures Were Stirring

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for [love-in-the-time](http://love-in-the-time.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr as a Christmas present, but hopefully you all enjoy it as well. Thanks again to colorofmymind for beta-ing, and a happy holidays to anyone who happens to stumble across this!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and in the Noble house all was not quiet and peaceful. Sylvia, the matriarch, was fast asleep, and lovable Wilfred had turned in hours ago after a bit of stargazing with their two guests.

One of those guests now lay on the sofa that had been made up for him, wide awake despite not having slept the last four nights they’d been here. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable; no, it was simply that the Doctor was being denied the one comfort that guaranteed him a peaceful night’s sleep: Donna, who lay in her childhood bed upstairs and out of reach.

When Donna had promised her mother they would be staying a whole week for the holidays, the Doctor had had no objections. After all, considering the likelihood they would get calls away for some reason on Christmas, it was best to appease Donna’s family by extending their time with them.

If he’d known how strict Sylvia was going to be about the living situation, however, he might have put his foot down at three days.

During the day, she’d been keeping Donna busy with this or that — cooking, shopping, baking — so that he hardly got to see her. About the only times were when friends and relatives were visiting, and that was merely so that Sylvia could show off her daughter’s boyfriend with the PhD.

Donna wasn’t happy about it either, of course. He knew she’d be much rather just watch some telly with him and Wilf on the sofa or help to put up the decorations even if she still thought it was a lot of fuss over a silly holiday.

But nothing,  _ nothing _ , beat the indignity that was Sylvia’s edict about sleeping arrangements. Sure, Donna’s old bed was a twin size, but they’d have been more than happy to make do! It was better than being treated like actual children, at any rate.

Donna was a grown woman, and he was well past a grown man. Perhaps they hadn’t gotten around to marriage yet, but what did it matter? For a woman so obsessed with seeing her daughter married with kids, Sylvia seemed to be doing everything she could to keep that from physically happening.

Not that he would have considered doing anything like that under Donna’s family’s roof ordinarily. But he was so starved for her touch and her mere company that he found himself lying there thinking about the feel of her, the sounds he pulled from her whenever they made love. It did little to calm him for sleep, but he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep until they were back home on the TARDIS anyway.

Just one more night, not including this one, and they were free. He could hold Donna close and not have to bother with ridiculous decrees that only took all the joy out of spending time with the people that mattered most to her.

But it was Christmas Eve, and that was  _ their _ night, and who was Sylvia to tell him what to do? He couldn’t believe he’d been willing to take it this long!

Donna had shown him which steps were the noisy ones and which weren’t, but he hadn’t put that knowledge to use yet in the hopes that Sylvia might grow to like him better if he seemed to respect her rules and relax them on her own. Now he stole up the stairs on tiptoe, then crept down the hall past Sylvia’s room and to Donna’s door.

He turned the knob slowly and silently before opening it just wide enough to slip through. The Doctor shut the door with the same care. Then he turned around.

Donna’s room was almost completely dark save for the soft glow coming in through the window due to some multi-colored strands of Christmas lights on the neighbor’s roof.

“Donna?” He kept his voice just above a whisper.

She sat up almost immediately, clearly having been playing at being asleep. “Doctor?”

He stepped further into the room. Already he felt better just being able to talk with her in private. “I, er, I couldn’t sleep. Could you?”

“No.” She pulled the covers back and scooted forward to make room for him. The Doctor climbed in behind her and wrapped his arms around her with a happy sigh. If he could just lie here for a bit, maybe even a couple hours, that would be enough, and no one would be the wiser.

Donna turned her head back to catch his lips in a slow, languid kiss. That one kiss turned into two, then more, and he cupped her cheek with one hand as their lips met again and again. It was like placing a feast before a starving man; all he wanted was more of her, no matter whether it was a good idea or not.

Donna seemed to feel much the same. “God, I’ve missed you. I almost ambushed you in the shower yesterday. Would’ve been perfect, but they got back home early.” Her fingers trailed up and down his arm. Since he’d left his jacket hanging off the back of a chair downstairs he could feel her touch quite distinctly, and it caused a slight shiver to go through him.

There was a heady sort of scent he was beginning to detect from her. Just a hint of arousal. The Doctor’s mouth began to water.

“Donna,” he warned even as he could feel an interest beginning to stir in response. It was no surprise considering the content of his thoughts before on the sofa.

“Can’t help it. I never actually snuck a boy up here, you know? Always kind of been a fantasy of mine,” she confessed.

The Doctor licked his lips. Those were dangerous words. “How did those fantasies usually go?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking, too curious to resist.

“About like this,” she said, taking his hand and guiding it to slide slowly down the length of her body. Donna pressed herself back against him so that their bodies were practically flush. His crotch was nestled right between the ample cheeks of her bum, and that interest he’d had was only beginning to grow. He felt himself twitch and then decidedly stiffen in reaction to the closeness of her body. How did she always do this to him so easily?

“I imagine those fantasies had a fair bit of touching?” His voice sounded low to his ears, but Donna’s eager nod seemed to indicate it was working for her. 

Low also meant quiet, which was essential to what they were doing — that was, if they were really doing this. Were they really doing this?

Of course they were.

He shoved a hand past the elastic of her pajama bottoms and knickers, fingers tickling the nest of ginger hair he adored much to Donna’s disbelief before crooking them upward in search of her center. The Doctor had been right about her arousal; his forefinger slipped between her folds with hardly any resistance, and he did his best to spread the slippery fluid around to make things easier.

Donna shuddered against him as he pushed his finger in further, but he knew she wouldn’t really get going without a little extra stimulation. He angled his hand in order to place his thumb at her clit, which he began rubbing in slow circles.

His other hand quickly had to be pressed over Donna’s mouth to contain the low moan that escaped her.

“Sorry,” she whispered a moment later. “Please don’t stop.”

“As if I could do that to you,” he teased, adding a second finger to his gentle in and out rhythm and opening her wider. Donna whimpered, and he laid his palm flat over her mouth. “Just try and keep the noise down, alright?”

She rocked back against him without warning, possibly in retaliation. Whether it was or not, she was good. The Doctor had to bury his face in her neck to smother a groan.

They began working each other into a real frenzy, the Doctor with his fingers and Donna with her lovely bum. It was far more hushed than they were accustomed to, which rather than make the whole thing awkward seemed to only heighten the experience. He was keenly aware of every soft noise that passed between Donna’s lips, and his own grunts and gasps were loud in his ears.

His erection was straining against the seam of his trousers, bordering on painful, and the Doctor couldn’t take it anymore.

He stopped kissing the side of her neck to ask, “Can you promise to be quiet a minute? I need my hand.”

Donna nodded quickly, and he didn’t wait another second before reaching down to undo his belt and fly. He pushed his trousers and pants down to his knees and felt great relief at no longer being contained.

Not to be outdone, Donna shimmied out of her own bottoms, leaving them skin on skin when she went back to grinding against him. Oh, it was so much better and also so much worse for how mad it drove him.

“Donna,  _ please _ ,” the Doctor choked out.

“Need you,” she finished for him. His fingers slipped out of her as she sat up unexpectedly and threw the covers off them.

She swung a leg over him — and they both froze as her bed gave an obnoxiously loud squeal in protest at the sudden shift. The Doctor lay on his back tensed for some kind of fight or flight response that was utterly useless with Donna pinning him to the mattress, a knee on either side of him and her sex hovering just above his erect cock.

His teeth were clenched with the effort of restraining himself from thrusting up into that delicious heat, and a bead of precome leaked from the head at just the thought. It was only the slightly tenuous grip he had on his rational mind that kept him from following basic instinct.

Donna remained right where she was as the undisturbed quiet of the house stretched on for what seemed an age until her head finally turned away from the door to look at him.

“I think we’re safe,” she whispered. Then she grimaced. “But I don’t know how we’re gonna keep quiet.”

That was very true. The Doctor cast about wildly until he landed on an idea. “Bite down on something?”

“Works for me.” Donna leaned forward and began undoing the knot of his tie, which had truthfully been what he’d been planning to use. His hands went to grip her hips when she put the strip of cloth between her teeth, however, the sight proving far more evocative than he could have predicted.

That still left the matter of how they were going to shut him up. At this point, the Doctor was prepared to let Donna shove a pillow over his face and let his respiratory bypass take care of the rest of it meant he’d finally be inside her.

Then Donna held up her knickers with a questioning look. He sucked in a breath but nodded. That could work.

The smell — and taste once he’d opened his mouth and allowed her to stick the thin piece of cloth in — of her desire was so strong, causing a muffled moan to rise. She was trying to kill him.

He did his best to beg with his eyes which Donna seemed to understand very well, for she wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and gave it two strokes before guiding the tip inside her. He squeezed his eyes shut as she sunk down onto him inch by inch, her warmth and wetness engulfing him nearly up to the hilt. They both were breathing heavily through their noses as she sat there for a minute to allow them to adjust to the sensation.

No matter how many times they did this he didn’t think he’d ever simply be used to it. His eyes opened again to look at her; a dull red flush was in her cheeks, the blue and gold of her irises were nearly swallowed up by the black of her pupils, and her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took, nipples poking through the thin material of her nightshirt.

In the dim red-blue-green glow of those Christmas lights from outside, she’d hardly looked more beautiful. The only problem was he couldn’t tell her. The Doctor rubbed at her hip bones with his thumbs and hoped that conveyed his thoughts somehow. When Donna’s eyes softened, he knew it had.

Then she began to rise off his length and all that was forgotten. 

Donna set a pace that was excruciatingly slow, but necessary in light of the creaky bed springs. It was a pleasurable torture; he wanted her heat and the tight feel of her around him more than words could describe but desperately needed some kind of friction to reach his release. His hands were clawed around the bed sheets to keep himself from flipping them over and making it happen.

But when Donna reached a hand down between them, it forced him to realize he wasn’t the only one in need. The Doctor hurriedly batted her fingers away and reapplied himself to the task of helping her to orgasm.

Donna clenched around him, drawing another groan from around his makeshift gag. She pulled off her shirt and flung it aside before working on his buttons, which he could only be grateful for as even he had begun to feel a little too warm. 

His mouth was watering again at the sight of her breasts swaying above his head as she continued to rock slowly into him. Before he could stop himself, the Doctor had spat out her knickers and pushed himself up with one hand to latch onto one of her nipples with his lips.

Donna hummed around his tie, throwing her head back as he licked and sucked at her. When she rolled her hips again, the slight change in angle had her taking him in even further than before.  _ Oh _ , oh that could be very good.

The change of position also allowed him the leverage to raise his hips, meeting her undulations with a small thrust on every downstroke. The friction he craved was beginning to build.

The mattress creaked, though nowhere near as loudly as before, and there wasn’t really any stopping them at this point. It all just felt too good. Donna had lost all sense of the rhythm she’d initially set and ripped the tie from her mouth in order to grip his face between both hands and kiss him.

He swallowed the moan she let into his mouth as she clenched once, twice, and then her walls were practically spasming as she reached her peak. 

It was too much for him, and his own orgasm crashed over him as he buried himself as deeply as he could within her, filling her with his release and moaning brokenly against her lips.

They sat there, panting in the aftermath of their shared climax and becoming very aware they’d not been all that careful right at the end. Yet as the silence outside Donna’s room stretched on, it became clear that somehow they’d gotten away with it.

The Doctor fell back onto the mattress and Donna leaned over him, giggling breathlessly as she peppered his face with kisses. The shift had him slipping out of her, which was probably for the best as while he hardly enjoyed anything better than being inside Donna, he’d begun feeling a bit of sensory overload. Now the haze of afterglow was settling in, and he pulled her down on top of him to kiss her properly.

“Took me to see the universe, fulfilled my naughtiest fantasies — what can’t you do?” Donna murmured. Oh, that was beautiful. He was saving that for the next time she called him an idiot after she’d come down from this high.

“If this is your naughtiest fantasy we’re gonna need to broaden your horizons some more.”

Donna snorted and rolled off him onto her side. She took his arm and pulled it around her waist, though. Then she asked, “Can you stay? Just till it’s light? Mum never gets up before ten on Christmas anyway.”

It probably wasn’t wise, but he was too content to care. The Doctor snuggled up behind her, then reached down to pull the covers up over them again. He was pretty tired after that surprisingly intense round.

“Donna?”

“Hm?” She was clearly already halfway to sleep herself.

Nevertheless, he kissed her cheek and said, “Merry Christmas.”

He watched a smile spread over her lips even as she shook her head. “Merry Christmas, Spaceman.”

—-

Donna’s room was awash in the dim, gray light of predawn when the Doctor found himself waking. He’d been rather deep asleep and couldn’t really imagine what would have roused him — until he heard the unmistakable sounds of someone moving around downstairs.

The Doctor went practically rigid, his arm tightening around the still slumbering Donna. Sylvia wasn’t meant to be up for hours, but what if Donna had been wrong?

He sat up and began to cast about for his clothes. His shirt and trousers were incredibly rumpled but wearable, and his tie absolutely ruined. He stuffed it in his pocket in case Sylvia ended up in Donna’s room later and found the evidence.

Quietly as he could, the Doctor eased Donna’s bedroom door open and used every bit of stealth he possessed to get down the stairs and back into the sitting room.

No one had come upon his unoccupied sofa it seemed, and he could tell now that the noises had been coming from the kitchen. The whistle of the teakettle moments later confirmed his suspicions.

To his great relief, he found Wilf puttering about the cabinets. A smile came to his face as he greeted the other man. “Morning, Wilf.”

“Oh! Morning, Doctor.” Wilf gestured to the kettle. “Was making myself a thermos before I head down to the newsstand. I’ll be back before either of the girls are up.”

“Right. Did you, er, want some company?”

Truthfully, the Doctor was hoping to have time for a shower and a change of clothes before the festivities started in earnest, but he liked Wilfred enough to put it off for a bit.

“That’s alright. Bit nippy out there. Tell you what, though, I think there’s enough water in the pot for a cuppa. You have a seat, and I’ll get you one.”

“You don’t have to.”

Donna’s grandfather busied himself with pulling down a mug for him nonetheless, so obligingly the Doctor sat at the table.

“Didn’t mean to wake you. Used to moving about in the mornings as I please. Donna’s a bit of a heavy sleeper.”

He certainly knew that. “And Sylvia, too?” He couldn’t help guessing hopefully.

“Nah, she’s a light one. Gets that from me, I’m afraid. It’s why she bought those earplugs.”

“Earplugs?” He echoed dumbly.

“Yeah. She’s worn them for years. Geoffrey, bless him, used to snore something awful. And she’s just not got out of the habit of wearing them.”

Well, if he’d only known that before! At least he knew without doubt now that he and Donna were in the clear.

“She didn’t think to get you a pair, though,” he remarked, leaning back in his chair, the last of his tension gone.

“Oh, Geoffrey never bothered me. I only know about it because she’d complain to me about the noise.” Wilf brought his tea over and set it down, looking right at him as he added offhand, “No, I’m under Donna.”

The Doctor froze. His eyes had gone very wide, and he was not sure it was safe to even breathe. Eventually he managed a very soft, “Oh.”

Wilf was grinning at him. “Yeah. Well, I’d best be off.” He took up his thermos and left the room, patting the Doctor on the shoulder on his way out.

He was paralyzed where he sat. Whether Wilf knew or not, the man was never going to come out and say it — though it was quite likely he didn’t even mind if he had — but he could never tell Donna. She wouldn’t be able to live with the mortification. He’d only been living with it for about two minutes now, and it already was enough to make him consider becoming an actual hermit.

They were doing Christmas on the TARDIS next year. And he was making sure the Old Girl placed Donna’s family clear on the other end of the ship.


End file.
